Showing Tag: "son" (Show all posts)

Prisoners

Posted by Mary Natwick on Monday, June 6, 2011, In : Mother/Son 
Well. I'm not a blogger at heart. I don't think you will benefit from seeing the inside of my neurotic mind. Some day it might be less neurotic. Some day, I might be a wise old woman with great insights to impart, and then, perhaps I will put down my thoughts more often.

But for now, the few insights I get come after writing a poem. Then I look at the ending and think, "Oh, so that's what's going on." There are times I don't get it even then, I'm sorry to say. Sometimes a friend will explain i...
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Play

Posted by Mary Natwick on Friday, April 8, 2011, In : Nature 
A few weeks ago I noticed some serious edginess and disconnectedness when I was writing my morning pages. So first I wrote a poem:

the way the tongue
trips in fluttery stops
and starts

the way the eyes scan a room
unseeing

the off-balance stumble when
hugging someone

why let it be so?

sit by that stream you know
set the boxes of unusable clutter
into the current
and give them a push goodbye

then roll into the shallows and
face your upstream birthplace
the water scours you clean
it floods you--
with your own s...
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